


FIC: Mrs. & Mrs. Mord'Sith 7/8

by trancer



Series: Mrs. & Mrs. Mord'Sith [7]
Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-27
Updated: 2010-05-27
Packaged: 2017-10-17 23:50:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/182670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trancer/pseuds/trancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cara and Kahlan are married spies, with a *mostly* picture perfect marriage. But, when Cara's past catches up to them, their lives are about to change in the most unexpected of ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	FIC: Mrs. & Mrs. Mord'Sith 7/8

ONE WEEK LATER

 **A GNN SPECIAL REPORT  
D‘HARAN/US SUMMIT**

Cooper Jones: I’m Cooper Jones reporting live in Geneva, Switzerland. I’m standing before the Palace of Nations where, in less than an hour, both the President of the United States and the Prime Minister of D’Hara will give speeches before the United Nations. Afterwards, the President and Prime Minister will meet for an historic summit between these two powerhouse nations. Tensions between the US and D’Hara are still strained. With elections in D’Hara less than a year away, the pressure is mounting for the Prime Minister and his chances for re-election. Especially, with rumors that Darken Rahl, himself, is planning to run for the position. As viewers well know, the US rescinded the arrest warrant for Darken Rahl due to lack of evidence regarding his involvement with the attack on the Seeker, Richard Cypher. Who is still recovering and has yet to make a public appearance.

**

Kahlan tapped the pen in her hand animatedly against her chin as she watched Cooper Jones broadcast his report. A clipboard held to her chest, she wore a black, pin-striped suit, her hair pulled up into a loose bun and wire-rimmed glasses, looking all the world like the TV producer she was impersonating.

The segment went to commercial. Cooper Jones immediately bounded off the platform, racing towards Kahlan.

“Was that to your liking, Mistress?” he asked reverently.

“Yes,” Kahlan glanced about, lowering her voice to a whisper. “I especially liked the emphasis on supporting the Seeker at the end.”

Cooper beamed. “I know how much support of the Seeker means to you.”

Kahlan nodded. Confessing the, then, rising star of the Global News Network had been an accident. It’d been Kahlan’s first solo mission, chasing rogue members of the Dragon Corps. Jones was working on an undercover expose on black market magic. A case of mistaken identity, a dark alley in Mexico City and fates collided. Kahlan was suspended for a week, for using her powers against an innocent. The Confessor’s were against using their powers to sway influence but, they weren’t above using said influence now that they had a man on the inside. Neither was Kahlan.

“Thirty seconds, Mr. Jones,” a PA announced.

“Thank you, Cooper,” Kahlan placed a hand on his shoulder. “Continue being the best investigative journalist you can be.. And gay. And discreet. It would be best if people not know you serve me.”

She waited until he bounded back towards the platform before turning and heading in the opposite direction. She made her way through the maze created by dozens and dozens of media trucks that filled the parking lot across from the Palace of Nations. Security was tight and ever present, armed soldiers in riot gear walked within and outside the perimeter of the media camp.

No one questioned when Cooper Jones asked for a second production truck for backup purposes should the first one experience technical difficulties. The second truck was sandwiched between the GNN truck and MNSBC (Magic National Services Broadcast Company).

Kahlan quickly took the small steps, opening the door and closing it quickly behind her.

“Kahlan,” Zedd immediately growled at the sight of her. He sat in the Director’s chair, before 30 monitors of various sizes, his hair pulled back into a ponytail so he could comfortably wear his headset.

“Anything?” Kahlan asked, ignoring his irritated protest.

“If there was anything to report, I would have told you. The spell I’ve cast feeds all the security cameras into my monitors,” he explained. Again. Because Zedd was always fond of useless exposition. “And, I’ve inserted a facial recognition spell, focusing on any blonde female that enters the premises. It‘s powerful magic. It’s also very thorough.”

His speech didn’t appease her. She grabbed a briefcase, setting it on a chair before she opened it, taking out her Confessor’s daggers and two semi-automatic’s.

“Kahlan,” Zedd sighed. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going inside.” She set her foot on the seat of the chair, lifting her pants leg and sliding a dagger between her calf and boot, then repeating with her other leg. Zedd merely sighed his protest. “Zedd!” she straightened. “She’s here. I know it. Cara’s here to assassinate the Prime Minister of D’Hara.”

Zedd folded his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair. “The Prime Minister’s going to be in a lot of places over the next week. Places where assassinating such a public figure would be much easier.”

“No,” Kahlan shook her head. “Cara was a Mord’Sith, the friggin’ Shadow, for crying out loud. She doesn’t *do* easier. If she’s here to do this, it’d be someplace very public and definitive so there’d be no doubt.”

“That’s a pretty huge ‘if’.”

“She’s here and I‘m the only one that can stop her.” Kahlan picked up a gun, pulled the chamber, loading a round and tucked the weapon in the back of her slacks. “I’m going to get my wife back.”

There was no point in arguing. Kahlan was already gone.

**

“What’s taking so long?” Denna snarled in her seat in the back of the stretch limo. She crossed her legs, smoothing the hem of her white dress.

The Premier of D’Harist Columbia dabbed the beads of sweat forming on his bald head with his handkerchief, eyeing the four Mord’Sith’s in their black suits flanking him. He was supposed to attend the event with his wife, until a call from the woman across from him at the last minute changed his plans. At the moment, he wasn’t sure what he feared more, Denna, or what his wife was going to do to him when she saw him exiting the vehicle with five women on his arm.

“This is a high security event,” he squeaked, adjusting his tie. “It will be slow getting through security.”

Eyes, cold as ice, glared at him. “I thought a man of your prestige would be able to circumvent such matters,” she taunted.

“You have to understand, this is highly irregular..”

“What’s irregular,” Denna purred, pushing back a stray lock of hair. “Are certain pictures of you in Whistler, sitting in a hot tub and drinking Crystal off the ass of someone who’s definitely not your wife.”

The Premier paled, swallowing hard and instantly pulling his cell phone from his breast pocket. “I’ll investigate the hold up.”

**

Cooper scored again, acquiring a media pass that allowed Kahlan to circumvent another scanning through Security. Unfortunately, it didn’t mean this particular line was any faster. There was a hold up due to an old man using a cane who refused to be wheeled around in a chair.

Kahlan blew a hard breath, pushing away the lock of hair falling over her face. The line was on the side of the building, away from the entrance where dignitaries and other very important people would make their entrance. She gazed about the faces around her, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of blonde hair only to turn away in disappointment. Cara was here. It had been Kahlan’s mantra since the memo made its way into her hands. Her hope had turned to desperation, fueled by the dull ache in her heart, the constant reminder for the past ten months of the missing piece of Kahlan’s soul. Cara was here. Cara had to be here. And maybe, just maybe, if Kahlan believed it enough, it would be true.

She lowered her head as a Confessor, in her ceremonial white robes, walked by with a Wizard of the First Order next to her. Security was tight, thorough. Along with the large number of soldiers that could secure a small nation, the building itself was protected by a magical barrier, insisted upon and provided by the D’Haran’s, a controversy unto itself.

Another limo rolled into the driveway, where news cameramen, paparazzi, security, in a flurry of activity, all made a mad rush towards the vehicle. The Summit had become *the* event, quite possibly, for the decade, and everyone made an attempt to attend. Kahlan watched with a passing disinterest and then she froze.

They were recognizable as they were unrecognizable. Mord’Sith. They exited the vehicle, four of them, looking all the world like nothing more than a security detail in their black suits, sunglasses and ear pieces with a coiled cord going from their ear to the insides of their collars. Their hair was the tell-tale sign, pulled back into long, ponytails that hung down their backs.

They exited the vehicle and pulled into a vee formation, flanking both sides of the door to the limo. The Premier of D’Harist Columbia exited, looking a bit sweatier than normal, and Kahlan almost breathed a sigh of relief. Almost. The sight of the next person to exit the vehicle made Kahlan’s blood run cold.

“Shit,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Kahlan?” Zedd’s voice asked through her earpiece, along with the hard clacking of a keyboard. “What is it?”

“It’s..” she had to force the word through her lips. “Denna.”

Denna. Who made her entrance by extending her long legs through the opened door, glammed up like some 40’s movie star in her white dress, white mink stole and matching heels. The Premier took her hand, then she wove it through his elbow as they, flanked by Mord’Sith, walked towards the entrance to the Palace of Nations.

Kahlan immediately turned, lowering her head and pretending to take a call on her cell so as not to be seen by Denna or the Mord’Sith.

“Keeper‘s balls!” Zedd grumbled in Kahlan’s ear. “Kahlan,” his voice lowered to a sympathetic whisper. “I’m sorry.. for not believing you.”

Not believing her. For a moment, her brain didn’t make the connection. She hadn’t planned on Denna being here. She hadn’t planned for Mord’Sith to be here. Then, Zedd apologized and Kahlan’s mind assumed it was for the, now, almost impossible predicament - stopping an assassination attempt. Alone. Then, her brain made the connection, the moment she’d been praying for since her wife had been torn away from her all those months ago.

Zedd apologized.

Because Kahlan had been right.

Cara was here.

**

The old man, the one who’d held up the line, slowly doddered his way through the lobby of the Palace of Nations. Nodding his hello’s and smiling amiably, though no one paid him no attention. No one paid attention to a not very important old man. They smiled politely but impatiently, made a path for him, held doors open for him but, ultimately, paid no attention to him.

He entered the men’s restroom, taking the handicapped stall at the far end and cursing under his breath in Ukranian over the stupidity of placing the handicapped stall at the farthest end of the room.

Outside the restroom, the sounds of commotion, muffled and distant, could be heard. The roar of applause, like a million bird wings taking flight. The President and the Prime Minister had arrived and the restroom emptied immediately except..

For one old man.

Cara yanked the prosthetic mask off her face, the gloves replicated to look like an old man’s wrinkled skin. She lifted the lid off the tank and dropped them inside, then pulled a small vial from her pocket and poured in the contents. The water began to bubble as the mask and gloves dissolved.

She upended her cane, twisting off the bottom. Security was tight. They would have thoroughly checked all the tanks in the restrooms for weapons. No one would have checked *inside* the walls.

The acetylene torched flicked to life, the mortar between the tiles melting like butter as Cara made quick work of the wall. 15 inches by 15 inches and twice as deep, just enough to hide a duffel bag. To hide her Agiel’s. Cara had been without them for a week while they sat unused and untouched, neatly stowed away behind the tiles. Her hands reached out immediately, gripping the hilts. The pain coursed through her, calmed and centered her. Better to focus on what she *had* to do, rather than the consequences of if she didn’t.

Releasing the Agiel’s, Cara stripped down just enough to tape the various pieces of the sniper’s rifle to her body. Redressed, she exited the stall, attaching the ID badge with the word ‘Security’ in bold black letters onto her breast pocket.

Then, Cara entered the lobby.

**

“Anything?” Kahlan’s tone was almost frantic. She’d briskly walked up and down the corridors, knowing to do so would be to arouse suspicion. And Kahlan was skirting the edge of coming up on someone’s radar.

“No,” Zedd, irritated, fired back. “Nothing.”

She turned a corner, skidding to a stop and retreating behind the wall as Denna and her Mord’Sith’s entered a room with a sign outside reading ‘Guests of D‘Hara‘. Good, Kahlan thought. Denna not being in the Council Chambers hopefully meant she was here as a mere observer and not an actual participant in the assassination.

The doors to the Council Chambers had been shut twenty minutes ago. The proceedings broadcast on various monitors, the audio piped through the intercom system.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a voice said through the speakers. “The President of the United States.”

“Think, Kahlan!” She pressed her palm to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. She’d studied the Shadow, back when the world typically assumed the Shadow was male. Kahlan’s thesis on the assassin, back when she was in the Academy, had fast-tracked her to becoming a true Confessor. But, Kahlan didn’t just study the Shadow. She’d fought the Shadow, she *knew* the Shadow. Cara Mason. And Kahlan had fought side by side with her, defended her and Cara had done the same, multiple times. More than that, Kahlan had fallen in love with her. She’d married her. If anyone knew the Shadow, it was Cara Mason’s wife.

**

On the third floor of the Palace of Nations, down a non-descript corridor, behind a conference room door where a ‘Closed for Maintenance’ sign hung, Cara finished removing the tiles from the floor. The space between the tiles and the concrete slab that formed the ceiling was almost three feet high, a veritable crawl space. She pushed aside thick bundles of wires and insulation until it was nothing but smooth concrete beneath her.

The hole was small, no more than three inches wide. It’d been cut at angle through the thick sheet of concrete, through the expansive Baroque painting on the ceiling of the Council Chambers. The hole was small but big enough for the barrel of Cara’s rifle. She didn’t need a scope. There was no wind inside the chambers for her to calculate. Her target would be standing still and Cara had always been an expert marksmen.

“..the Prime Minister of D’Hara..”

Dell ‘Chase’ Brandstone took the podium, poised and composed in his business suit with a red and black sash across his chest, signifying his position as Prime Minister of D’Hara.

Cara held no ill-will towards the man. He was just one amongst many, a mission, a target. Some of her targets deserved their fate, some didn’t, most were somewhere in between. Cara tried not to think about how this mission would change the fate of the world. She tried not to think about how Brandstone was married, tried not to think about his wife or his children and the giant hole she was about to create in their family.

The Prime Minister began to speak. Cara relaxed her breathing, listened to her heartbeat, felt the stillness between those beats as her finger tensed around the trigger. This wasn’t personal, except, it was. Dell Brandstone wasn’t an evil man, that Cara knew. He just happened to be the obstacle standing between Cara’s family and safety.

Cara would always put her family first. Jaw clenching, she set her resolve. This was what she had to do. Must do. Cara inhaled..

And pulled the trigger.

She never saw it coming. So focused on the task at hand, Cara didn’t hear the door as it quietly opened. Or felt the shift in the air as a body entered the room. In the fraction of time between Cara’s finger flexing and the trigger pulling, Cara never sensed the hands reaching down into the floor and grabbing her by the belt.

The rifle fired, the bullet missing the Prime Minister’s head by two feet and striking a man behind him. The Chambers erupted into chaos. Cara saw none of it. The hands jerked her out of the hole in the floor, tossing her haphazardly like a sack of potatoes.

Cara let gravity take her, tumbling across the carpet and rolling into a small crouch, ripping the Agiel’s from their holsters, ready to face her attacker. She blinked, eyes squinting as if her mind couldn’t quite process what she was seeing.

Kahlan. Cara blinked again. She was staring at Kahlan and a knife, sheer molten ore, sliced through Cara’s heart. Her wife standing before her and all Cara could think was she’d failed. She’d failed to kill the Prime Minister of D’Hara. If Denna had the *slightest* idea.. Cara set her resolve, gripping the hilts of her Agiel’s tighter as her eyes darkened. She would cherish this moment, burn it to memory to relive in the dark days ahead of her. But, she was on a mission - to save her family, to kill the Prime Minister - and, now, she’d have to do it the hard way.

Even if it meant going through one Kahlan Amnell.

Hands held up defensively, Kahlan backed a step. “Cara, wait!”

She ducked as Cara swung her right hand hard. The Agiel struck the wall, the magic hissing and squealing, chunks of plaster raining down. Kahlan struck back, shoving her fist into Cara’s solar plexus. Without the protection of her Mord’Sith uniform, the blow went deep. Cara doubled over, the air whooshing out of her lungs. Kahlan struck again, a right hook to Cara’s jaw, then quickly whacked Cara across the face with a backhand.

Kahlan circled, placing herself between Cara and the door, waiting. Cara wiped the blood from her split lip with the back of a hand, raising her head and a cold shiver went down Kahlan’s spine. Cara’s lips broadened into a wide, maniacal smile, showing the part of her that loved the _infliction_ of pain, regardless of whether it was her own or someone else’s. Her green eyes were bright but hard, the message clear - the only way she was going to stop was if Kahlan made her.

She rushed towards Kahlan, going full bore. Kahlan tried to sidestep it. Cara caught her with a shoulder, right under Kahlan’s ribs and they crashed through the door to the conference room.

No holds barred, they spilled out into the empty hallway. Kahlan landing heavily on her back as Cara thudded on top of her. And Kahlan grit her teeth as the tip of an Agiel was shoved hard into her stomach. She shoved at Cara, pushing her away. They hadn’t fought this hard since the time Cara had actually tried to kill Kahlan. While she had a gun and her daggers on her, Kahlan couldn’t find it within herself to use them on Cara. Not this time.

Which put her at a significant disadvantage.

Cara swung again. The Agiel struck Kahlan against her blocking forearm. Cara swung her free arm down and Kahlan caught it by the wrist. They stood, locked like this, pressure against resistance, Kahlan pleading with her eyes, Cara insisting with hers.

Cara pushed, just enough to swing her knee into Kahlan’s side. Kahlan doubled over then swung her head up hard, cracking it against the underside of Cara’s chin. Kahlan released her grip, grabbed Cara by the lapels, lifting her several inches as she charged and slammed Cara against the wall.

Kahlan didn’t know what else to do. She didn’t want to fight Cara. She just needed a *moment*, a second to get through that thick skull of Cara’s. So, Kahlan took both of her hands, placed them on either side of Cara’s face and kissed her.

The kiss was hard, pressing, closed lips against closed lips. Then Kahlan felt the tiniest bit of tension leave Cara’s body, heard the smallest of whimpers escape her throat as her eyes closed.

“Kahlan, please,” Cara croaked as their lips parted and Kahlan pressed their foreheads together.

“Cara, look at me,” Kahlan shook gently with the hands still clasped to Cara’s face. “I know how to break the spell,” she said and green eyes opened with the smallest glimmer of hope. “We have to break the connection between myself and Denna.”

“How?” Cara asked.

Kahlan swallowed. “You have to kill me.. then revive me with the Breath of Life.”

Cara looked back at her with sheer horror, like Kahlan had gone mad and it was infectious. Shaking her head, she shoved Kahlan away from her.

“Cara, wait!” But Cara was already hitting the door to the stairwell before Kahlan could get her bearings. She chased after her, Cara already a level up the stairs by the time Kahlan entered the stairwell.

Kahlan, her long legs pumping, took three steps at a time. Then, she suddenly stopped, realizing the only way to catch Cara Mason was to stop chasing.

“Her name’s Isabel,” Kahlan called out, her voice echoing against the walls. “I named her after your grandmother.”

The stairwell became eerily quiet, Kahlan straining her ears to hear if Cara was still there with her. The seconds ticked by. Kahlan’s shoulders sagged defeat, at the possibility of having lost her again.

“I know,” Cara’s voice spoke softly and Kahlan felt her heart skip a beat.

Placing her hand on the railing, Kahlan took a single step up the stairs. “You should see her, Cara. Our daughter.” She took another step, slowly advancing as she spoke. “She’s just.. absolutely perfect. But, she’s just a tiny little baby and already her heart’s broken. It’s like she knows there’s a piece of her missing and I can’t fill the void..”

Kahlan stepped onto the landing, turning to the next set of steps, she could see Cara at the top of the stairs.

“She needs you, Cara,” Kahlan pleaded.

Head lowering, Cara turned it just a fraction towards Kahlan, features hidden behind the curtain of blonde hair. “Please don’t ask me to do this.”

“Do you trust me?” Kahlan asked. She took one, two, three more steps. Cara didn’t answer her. “Do you love me?”

This time, Cara did turn, looking at Kahlan with eyes that said that was, quite possibly, the stupidest question in the world. “With everything I am.”

Kahlan reached with her hand, gently clasping it around Cara’s right wrist as she walked the last few steps to put them on level ground. “Then trust me.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me.” Cara shook her head. “I can’t..”

“I told you I’d find a way to bring us together again..” she clasped her other hand against Cara’s left wrist. “I trust you, Cara. I believe in you. Believe in us.”

Kahlan’s grip tightened. She pulled Cara’s wrists towards her, teeth clenching as the tips of both Agiel’s pressed against her stomach.

Cara watched in horror as the pain took over, the back of her mind screaming for her to stop. There had to be another way. But, if she didn’t trust Kahlan now, when would she?

The Agiel’s hissed and screamed as the magic poured into Kahlan. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, legs giving way as her heart stopped and she breathed her last breath.

Cara immediately wrapped her arms around Kahlan’s waist, taking her weight and gently easing her to the floor. She lifted the Agiel’s in her hand. Her Agiel’s, her constant companions. She felt the pain flowing into her and, for the first time ever, it felt like poison. Dropping them onto the ground, Cara wiped her hands on her jacket.

She reached out, brushing her fingertips over Kahlan’s lips. Lips she thought she’d never touch again. Gently, placing her hand on the crown of Kahlan’s head, Cara lowered, until she felt the warmth of Kahlan’s lips against her own.

“Please,” she whispered. “Let this work.”

She exhaled, feeling the magic flow out of her, the glowing wisps of breath drifting into Kahlan’s mouth. The last of her breath exhaled, Cara kept her lips pressed to Kahlan. And waited.

And waited.

Her eyes opened, brows scrunching in confusion.

“Kahlan?” She carefully shook Kahlan’s head. She’d performed the Breath of Life hundreds of times, she was an expert at it. This time? It was taking too long.

“Kahlan?” she asked again, a little louder, a little more forcefully. “Kahlan!”

The horror hit Cara like a tsunami. Kahlan wasn’t coming back. She grabbed Kahlan’s lapels, jerking the brunette up. “Don’t you do this!” she growled, but it was hollow and filled with nothing but pain. “Don’t you make me do this and fucking leave me!” She shook even harder. “Do you hear me? Don’t you do this! Don’t you leave me!”

Cara lifted Kahlan into her arms, cradling her. “You’re not the one who’s supposed to die.”

Kahlan wasn’t listening. Not anymore.

**

 _HONOLULU, HAWAII_

 _“Cara?” Zedd chuckled, his expression both bemused and puzzled._

 _Richard nudged Cara with his shoulder. Cara blinked, turning her eyes to the wizard._

 _Zedd’s smile broadened. “When I say ‘you may now kiss the bride’? That’s the part where you’re supposed to kiss the bride.”_

 _The congregation of family, friends and invited guests all laughed at once, Cara trying not to glare as they did._

 _“And,” Zedd continued. “I’d hate to think you burned all our clothes for nothing.” He made a dramatic gesture towards the sarong wrapped around his long frame. And Cara shifted uncomfortably in her tux, being the only person who’s clothes hadn’t been burned by the fire caused during her bachelorette party. It wasn’t her fault she was smart enough to forget her tux in the trunk of their car._

 _Cara took a quick glance at the faces of the people seated. They weren’t there for Cara, she knew it and accepted it. She turned her gaze to the people standing next to her on the platform, even if they were all dressed in sarongs._

 _She swallowed hard, recognizing the sensation as she’d heard referred to as a ‘lump in her throat’. She’d never say it, not in a million years, but this was her family - Zedd, Richard, Dennee and.._

 _Kahlan._

 _Cara willed her eyes to look at the woman standing before her, the soft smile, blue eyes filling with tears, head haloed by the floral wreath atop it. The lump in her throat grew bigger, heart hammering heavily in her chest. They’d been together for over a year and Cara still couldn’t believe it. Cara definitely believed she loved Kahlan. She just couldn’t believe the woman loved her back._

 _“Hi,” Cara squeaked softly._

 _Kahlan tilted her head down, gazing almost shyly up at Cara. “Hi.”_

 _“Maybe,” Richard offered, leaning his head towards Zedd. “She doesn’t really want to marry Kahlan.”_

 _On that, Cara turned and slugged Richard on the arm._

 _“Ow! That..” he ran a hand over his bicep. “Actually hurt.”_

 _“Of course it hurt,” Cara huffed. “And, don’t be ridiculous. Of course I want to marry Kahlan.”_

 _Richard continued rubbing his arm. “Then, would you kiss her, fer crying out loud!”_

 _“Kiss her,” Zedd implored._

 _But, it wasn’t Zedd or Richard or even Dennee’s opinion that mattered. All Cara cared about was what the woman standing across from her thought._

 _An eyebrow rose coyly on Kahlan’s forehead, head tilting, already leaning in. “Kiss me.”_

 _“Yes, ma’am,” Cara purred. No one’s opinion mattered but Kahlan’s. Cara loved her. Kahlan loved her back. Cara lifted her hands, cupping her face as they brought their lips together. “I love you,” Cara breathed with the softest of whispers._

 _“Mmm,” Kahlan breathed back. “’Til death do us part.”_

 _“No,” Cara tightened the hands cupping Kahlan’s face. “You’re never going to die. I won’t let you.”_

**

With eyes blank and lifeless, Kahlan cradled in her arms, her chin resting on Kahlan’s head, Cara rocked back and forth.

“It’s ironic, don’t you think?”

Cara didn’t bother to lift to look towards the sound of Denna’s voice. The blonde, now dressed in her white leathers and flanked by her Mord’Sith, took another sauntering step forward. She stepped towards Cara, leathering creaking as she kneeled down.

“All the..” she paused, sucking her lower lip between her teeth, squeezing the air into her mouth. She reached out, fingers brushing the hair off Cara’s face and tucking it behind an ear. “ _Things_ you did to keep me from killing her and she dies by your hands.”

“She,” Cara growled. “Won’t be the only one.”

The hate and rage radiated off Cara. Denna chuckled, rising to her feet and backing away, knowing she’d poked the caged lion one time too many.

Reverently, Cara lowered Kahlan to the floor, kissing her gently on the forehead. “I’ll be with you soon, my love,” she whispered. It was a lie, she knew. Cara’s place in the Afterlife had been secured long ago. Where ever she went, she knew she wouldn’t be joining Kahlan.

Cara rose to her full height. Leather gloves creaking as she pulled her hands into fists. She no longer needed her Agiel’s to feel the calming center of pain. She was pain, raw and aching. It flowed through, mixed swirled with the building storm of the hate and rage within her.

A warrior’s cry erupted from Cara’s throat and she charged. The first Mord’Sith was dead before she hit the ground, neck broken and twisted at an odd angle. An Agiel stabbed into her breastbone. It was like a mosquito trying to bite a bear. Cara grabbed her wrist, swung her fist across the woman’s jaw. Then grabbed her Agiel, jamming it deep into her stomach. Her death was instant. More than she deserved.

Cara looked up to see Denna and the remaining two Mord’Sith retreating up the stairs. She charged after them. There would be no escape this time. Cara smiled gleefully, thinking of the many ways she was going to kill Denna. It would be slow and painful and Cara was going to love every minute of it.

A flight of stairs between them, Denna hit the roof, the door slamming hard as the last Mord’Sith exited. Cara swung her foot forward and kicked the door open. She immediately ducked at the Agiel aiming for her head. Outside the confines of the stairwell, the Mord’Sith attacked Cara at the same time, slashing, punching, kicking, stabbing with their Agiel’s. Cara took the blows. Rage coursing through her, she no longer felt pain. Just delivered.

Denna circled, watching. The ever present coy and lascivious smile on her lips. There was nothing hotter than watching three - okay, now two - chicks fighting. It was almost as good as sex.

The last of Denna’s personal guard fell in a crumpled heap. Denna pouted, like it was so hard to find good help these days, then turned her eyes to Cara. “And then there were two,” she drawled.

“Soon to be just one,” Cara fired back.

“What will you do then, Cara? Bury your wife,” she taunted, watching Cara flinch at her words. “Raise your precious little daughter. What will you do when she looks up at you with her innocent little eyes and asks ‘what happened to Mommy?’?”

The two circled around the roof like gunfighters before a shootout. Denna stopped, pulling her Agiel and holding it up as she gazed lovingly. “People like us were never meant for picket fences, apple pie and baseball. We’re killers, Cara. Plain and simple.”

“Maybe I am a killer but I’m still better than you.”

Denna tilted back her head and laughed. “You still don’t get it, do you, Cara? You can’t win this fight. I made you. I trained you. I know your every move, your every thought. Do you really think I taught you everything? That I didn‘t hold back just a little to always make sure I‘m the last one standing?”

Cara shrugged. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”

Denna squinted her eyes, the smile on her face fading to a grim line. “I guess so.”

Cara charged first, running at full bore towards Denna. Denna charged then, just a few feet before they would connect, she sideswiped the impact. Extending her arm, she clothes-lined Cara. Cara went ass over tea kettle, landing hard on her chest.

She rolled onto her back, lifting her forearms to block the Agiel swinging down. Denna’s eyes darkened as she pushed. “It’s not too late,” she grunted. “To join me.”

“Seriously!?!” Cara swung her leg up, striking Denna in the shoulder, knocking her away. Jumping to her feet, Cara spun, hitting Denna square in the chest with a spinning back kick. Stumbling, Denna’s back hit the door to the stairs.

“Don’t you get it?” she asked with the crack of a fist against Denna’s jaw, using her fists in a flurry of punches to accent her words. “I’M.. JUST.. NOT.. THAT.. INTO.. YOU!!”

On the last punch, Denna’s head jerked hard. Cara should have seen it, the glimmer in Denna’s eyes. She should have seen it. And she did, only it was too late. Cara had been running on adrenaline that had now burned down to fumes. She’d fought Kahlan, lost her wife, took on four of the best Mord’Sith and Denna herself. Cara never saw it, just felt it, the Agiel jammed hard under her ribs, Denna pouring everything she had into the leather rod.

Cara screamed at the pain. Denna wrapped an arm around Cara’s waist, jamming the Agiel harder as Cara stumbled backwards. She released her hold, swinging her white Agiel against Cara’s jaw, striking again and again.

Cara’s vision blurred, her legs went rubbery then her entire body tensed as Denna stabbed her again. Cara slumped to the ground, body twitching and spasming as Denna stabbed her over and over again, until she finally collapsed, completely spent.

Denna stood over her, pressing a boot to Cara’s throat. In the distance, the sound of a helicopter approaching filled the air. “Like I said,” she smirked triumphantly. “In what world could you ever beat me?”

“The one with ME!”

The fist came from nowhere, cracking against Denna’s face with a ferocious intensity. Denna spun a full 360, turning around just in time to receive a boot to the gut. She stumbled backwards, eyes blinking back into focus to see..

Kahlan Amnell.

Kahlan stood before a prostrate Cara, black hair whipping about her face, hands balled into fists, and blue eyes darkened with anger.

“You’re..” Denna gasped. “You’re dead!”

Kahlan smirked, tilting her head coyly. “I got better.”

Then, it was Kahlan and Denna. Kahlan was all haymaker’s and boiler maker’s. She could have used her daggers but this felt too good, the feel of Denna’s flesh breaking against her fists.

Coughing and sputtering, Cara rolled onto her side, not quite able to believe her eyes but grateful for the sight, nonetheless. Kahlan, her Kahlan was alive.. and kicking the ever loving shit out of Denna.

“This is for threatening my family!” Kahlan screamed with one last punch. And Denna - battered, bloodied, and bruised - slumped to her knees. Kahlan reached out with her hand, grasping it around Denna’s throat, blue eyes swirling into black.

“And this is for fucking with me!”

The approaching helicopter, no more than fifty feet away, turned, exposing the open door on the side, a Mord’Sith raising the rifle in her hands and peering through the scope.

“Kahlan!” Cara screamed. She leapt towards Kahlan, grabbing her by the shoulders as the shot rang out. The bullet whizzed through the air, missing its target by millimeters as Kahlan and Cara fell flat onto the roof.

The connection broken, Denna coughed, holding her throat as she rose to her feet. Her lips curled a mocking grin of triumph. She turned, racing towards the helicopter swerving towards the building.

Kahlan and Cara swiftly jumped to their feet.

Denna jumped, the chopper bobbing from the added weight as her hands grasped onto the landing skid. Mord’Sith immediately reached for their leader, pulling her inside the cabin. The chopper veered away but not before Denna poured salt in the wound one last time, blowing the two women a kiss.

Kahlan screamed in frustration, pulling out the semi tucked into the back of her slacks. She fired, finger squeezing until she emptied the clip and the helicopter was out of range.

The helicopter suddenly dipped, black smoke billowing from the engine. Kahlan had scored a direct hit. The rotor blade stopped, sending the chopper into a dead spin. It spun around, bobbing and weaving over the media parking lot as the pilot fought for control of the vehicle, all to no avail.

The chopper landed with hard crunch on a grassy knoll. The blade whipped into the ground, breaking into a dozen pieces that sailed through the air.

**

“Let me through!” Kahlan pushed her way through the crowd of people standing around the wrecked chopped, albeit, a safe distance.

Soldiers circled the wreck, some pointing their rifles at the occupants within, others sprayed the engine with fire extinguishers.

Kahlan reached the edge of the crowd, a solider immediately holding up a hand.

“Ma’am,” he commanded. “Please stay back.”

Reaching into her breast pocket, Kahlan pulled out a black leather billfold and flipped it open. “My name’s Kahlan Amnell, Confessor, MBI and that woman,” Kahlan pointed, her eyes locking with Denna. “Needs to be placed under arrest for the attempted assassination of the Prime Minister.”

The soldier’s eyes widened at Kahlan’s words, stepping aside and letting her through. Kahlan was a Confessor and a Confessor would never lie.

“Hello, Denna,” Kahlan said, placing a hand on the opened doorframe and hovering over the blonde, her lips spreading into a coy smirk. “Welcome to the new world.”


End file.
